Summary

Warmth

A draft blew through the room and made the little girl
shudder. Her black and blue limbs were huddled together tight as possible in an
effort to keep some degree of heat. In front of her, on the dim little TV was
an old man, talking about the birth of Christ. She sniffled. Her blue and ivory
feet were shaking.

From the stairs a small sickly stick of a man descended. 60
at least, grease and sweat trickled from his receding hairline and a cigarette
hung lit between his jagged teeth.

"Go to fucking bed," the man said bitterly.
"Tomorrow you get to shovel snow."

The little girl slid off the rotten old couch in her
oversized, thin linen shirt, teeth chattering. She wasn't allowed to go to bed
until she was told. It was the only place she was warm. She turned the TV off.
Her blue and ivory feet climbed up the staircase, hurting with each step. The
cold was unbearable, but soon it'd be warm. Soon she'd be under the blanket.
Soon--

"WHERE THE HELL IS MY BLANKET?!" a voice screamed.
Thudding feet ran up the stairs purposefully, dragging with it the oversized
body of a woman in her 50's, clinging onto youth. "YOU BITCH, YOU TOOK IT
DIDN’T YOU? FUCKING LITTLE SHIT, AFTER 14 FUCKING YEARS OF PROVIDING FOR
YOU..." her words were lost as she shoved the girl to the floor and
slammed the girls bedroom door open. "Where the FUCK is it? Are you hiding
it? YOU’RE HIDING IT! WHERE?"

The screams maimed the girls’ ears, but not nearly as bad as
the blows the woman delivered with her feet. The girl didn't even bother trying
to curl up in a ball; she just took it all. The bruises already there darkened.
They were never yellow anymore. It hurt.

The kicks stopped, but the words kept going, though the girl
couldn't hear them anymore. The woman's body disappeared back downstairs. The
girl crawled the rest of the way into her room.

It was bare inside, with nothing but a window, a thin
mattress, and a thinner blanket. There was nothing on the blank walls, no
dresser, no closet. Just peace.

She covered her broken body with the blanket and laid down
on the mattress. She curled up so the blanket could cover her entire body.

Warmth.

From beneath the mattress she produced a tiny Dora the
Explorer watch she'd found abandoned in the street. The time was 8:37pm. She
laid it down on the side of the mattress and closed her eyelids. But sleep
seemed to neglect her too.

She shivered from beneath the blanket and sat up.

From outside a lone firework went off. Red and green
illuminated through the barred window. When the noise ceased, all that was
reflected was the white upon the rooftops and ground outside. She smiled. She
put the watch on her wrist and read it: 12:01am. She stood up. She walked to
the door. It was locked.

She kept smiling. Instead she went back to the mattress.
From beneath she brought out a hair clip. She clicked the lock open. It wasn't
hard. She smiled.

She crept out silently. It was black in the hallway. She
embraced the darkness as a cape, the same darkness that had shielded her from
the benevolence of her tormentors for 14 years, and beyond that. She went
downstairs, skipping over the creaky steps. The front door stood in front of
her now. She smiled. From there she could hear the abominations growling at
each other, shaking the bed roughly. She turned right and headed into the
kitchen. The light was switched on. She went to the leftmost drawer. She stood
before it a long time. She smiled. 12:38am.

She opened it. In her hand she grasped a black grip. It was
warm. She smiled. She took another. And another. The glint of the metal gleamed
onto the ceiling above her. She looked up and smiled. She ran a finger along
the razored side. Blood appeared almost instantly. She didn't bother to close
the drawer back.

There was a sickly calendar with the Dallas cheerleaders on
the small brown refrigerator, turned to December. The days past were x-ed out.
She looked around for something to write with. She didn't find anything. She
turned the light off and went back to the front door. Her eyes burned red. She
smiled. The creaks from the monsters' bedroom had stopped now.

She glided down the corridor that led to the room. They
didn't bother to lock it tonight. She stood there for a long time, adrenaline
pouring through her veins.

12:58am.

She smiled. Their breaths were slow and deep. Sleep wasn't
so negligible after all. She swung the door open without a sound and walked to
the edge of their bed.

She stood for a long time, wrapped in warm black hate.

Then with a quick motion, she sunk one of the blades into
the man's throat with ease. It went in silently. The man was not. His yellow
eyes bulged out of socket and he gurgled blood in his tobacco stained mouth.
She smiled. The woman's eyes shot open and she screamed at the silhouette killing
her mate. Her efforts to scramble out of bed resulted in falling off the side,
tangling herself in the same blanket she'd beat the girl for.

The little girl crawled over the dying creature and pounced
on top of the struggling woman. The girl took out another sharp blade and
pierced it through her hand. She woman's screams didn't maim her ears this
time. They warmed them. She smiled.

The woman tried to swipe the girl off with her taloned
fingers. The girl let the nails dig into her face, smiling as blood was drawn.
The girl grabbed the woman's fat filthy fingers and put them in her mouth. She
bit down. Hard.

The girl took the woman's screaming head and smashed it into
the grip, driving it into the polished wooden floors. Screams. Red crawled out
of the woman's hand. She spit 3 of the woman's fingers tips out. 1:16am. She
smiled.

The girl stood up and began to kick the woman. Over and
over. And over. Her tiny legs were swallowed by the woman's body mass, but it
didn't prevent the woman from feeling pain. The woman's screams got quieter.
Each time her foot came into contact, it was harder. And harder. A crack. She
smiled. Over and over. 1:25am.

The woman stopped moving. Stopped screaming. She had ripped
her hand open trying to escape the thing driven into it. The girl turned around
and was pleased to see a trail of blood leading out the door to the room.

She curb stomped the woman's head and went out.

A naked, wriggling mass was trying to open the front door.
It had removed the knife from its throat. She smiled. She let it get out the
door. The red made the doorknob slippery.

The body crawled into the snow. She followed, leaving her
cape of darkness for a blanket of white. Before it could reach the sidewalk,
she delivered a swift kick to his side. Blood discharged from his mouth. She
smiled.

The little girl turned him on his back and dragged the knife
from his forehead to his scrotum. Gurgles masked his screams. Red flowed from
his mouth. It gushed from the laceration. She smiled. Then tore out the eyes
that would watch her sleep, shower, and eat. She buried the eyes inside his
skin, so he could see how disgusting his soul was.

The red covered her hands now. It was so warm. She smiled.

She kicked snow over the living corpse, burying him in
frost.

Black greeted her back in the house that held her captive
for so long. Red ran down her arms. She went back to the kitchen. She stood in
front of the calendar for a long time. 2:00am. She circled the "25"
with the warm red dripping off her fingers. She smiled. It's the best gift she
could ask for:

Warmth.

Did you enjoy my story? Please let me know what you think by leaving a review! Thanks,
DemonExorcist

Gayle O'Leary:
This story reminds me of books by Philip K Dick and Ray Bradbury. Sci fi dystopians that examine the harmful impacts of technology on humanity and how the pressure to conform brings out the worst in us. I'm a big fan of those stories, I bet you are, too.I think this story would be far edgier if y...

M.J.B:
I have never cried so much in a book before..... I loved the characters, i loved the romance and the danger..... but I love the fact that she loved him without limits and without hesitation even with his mental illness.I love them

wayouri:
This has to be one of the best stories I've ever read. Not only was it super well written, but the overall flow of the story was really good as well and had me constantly on the edge as to what's gonna happen next! Though I was kind of hoping for a.. different ending I suppose? I still very much ...

yolandamgobz14:
The story is interesting, some things are predictable and there are a few mistakes in the grammar. Sometimes you narrate the story but will then make a mistake by putting it in first person otherwise the story is good though.

Rustin Petrae:
What can I say? I love werewolves. Always have. I wanted to create my own werewolf lore, mythos, etc and just sprinkle in ideas and concepts I have always loved. I loved the way the story unfolded.